Schism
by MissJuniper
Summary: Joker x OC. A young woman, used to the routine of Gotham City, has an unexpected night. Mature content.
1. Chapter One: Close Encounters

Chapter One: Close Encounters

"Lady, I've been here for hours. Can you just tell me how my daughter is doing?"

"Sir, like I said ten minutes ago and an additional ten after that, your daughter is still in surgery. I have about twenty other families in this lobby going through the exact same thing you're going through. As soon as there are any updates, I promise I or someone else will let you know. Until then, have a seat."

The elderly man glared daggers at Daisy and took a seat. Things were crazier than normal at Gotham Memorial, the older nurses were muttering over and over again that there had to be a full moon, but unfortunately, it was only a waxing. Daisy wondered if this full moon she would be getting another twenty car pile up.

Her twelve hour shift was dragging slowly over the final thirty minutes, she looked at the clock every five minutes to subtract her time. Thirty minus five, only twenty five minutes left. Her feet ached from the hours of running from one patient to the next. There was blood, sweat, and what could only be explained as vomit on her new blue scrubs. She couldn't decide what was the most eventful part of her day; the elderly man who grabbed her ass when she was inserting a catheter or when the whacked out teenager started stripping in the lobby because he was on fire. This was only her first year out of nursing but she was dedicated to the profession; she had always wanted to be a nurse just like her mother and her grandmother.

Twenty five minus five, only twenty more minutes.

Daisy quickly finished her charting for the night, trying to make it out at a reasonable time. She put her coat and hat in a pile next to her, so when the clock struck midnight she could run out of the nut house that was Gotham E.R.

"Excuse me, miss?"

Daisy looked up to see a middle aged woman with mascara running down her face. She was clutching a wad of tissues like her life depended on in. She took long, steady breaths, obviously trying to calm herself down from her situation. Daisy smiled at her, putting all her attention to her, "Yes ma'am, how can I help you?"

"It's my son... Ryan. He-he was in the car pile-up and it's been an hour and no one is talking to me and…" She started to hyperventilate, clutching the counter as to not fall down. Daisy ran around the nurse's station to collect her, the mother melted into Daisy, sobbing into her stained uniform. Daisy did what was natural to her, holding the woman as she sobbed and gasped for air. She gently lowered the distraught mother against the station and kneeled next to her.

"Ma'am, what's Ryan's last name?"

"Mi-miller. Our last name is Miller." The woman curled herself into a ball, steadily rocking back and forth.

"Okay, I'm going to go find out what I can about Ryan. Just stay right here until then, okay?" Daisy stood up and made way to Marcy, one of her veteran co-workers. "Marce, can you grab this mother a bottle of water? I have to figure out what's going on with her kid."

Marcy nodded. Daisy made her way to the O.R. She could see all of the families: pacing, sobbing, rocking; wondering the fate of their loved ones. How can so much instant grief fill one area? She saw a doctor deliver news to a family; the matriarch collapsed in shock, the patriarch held his head in his hands and sobbed. Though Daisy saw the same situation with different faces each day, she never got used to it. The people haunted her dreams, the grief at her happy spirit alive. She had to get a new job, maybe a pediatrics office or something. Something 9-5 with guaranteed weekends, something that didn't want to make her cry in the bathroom every fifteen minutes.

Twenty minus five, only fifteen more minutes.

Daisy grabbed ahold of the closest O.R. nurse that she could find, anything to compromise getting the mother her information and getting herself home. Ryan had decided that night to no wear a seat belt. His head hit the glass and he cracked his skull, as well as a few other bones in his body. He also had an internal bleed surgeons were stitching up. He was somewhat stable and that is what mattered in the moment. Ms. Miller didn't seem to understand, she was still in shock of the whole situation. Daisy sat her down in a seat with a blanket and a coffee. Marcy agreed to keep an eye on her in case she broke down again.

Fifteen minus five, only ten more minutes.

Daisy decided to hid out in the bathroom for the rest of her shift. She seemed to always get caught up and staying for a few extra hours to help out. Gotham Memorial was significantly understaffed; the facility was sucked of most of its resources considering the lack of funding, the drugs, the epidemic with mobs and gangs running loose. Not to mention, the vigilante taking out all the "bad guys" the Gotham P.D. wouldn't dare disturb. Daisy laughed to herself, this is what you would read in comic books.

Daisy scurried into the dirty staff bathroom and locked the stall, stripping out of her tainted uniform (after tonight, she contemplated burning these particular scrubs). Though Daisy had lived in this city for about a decade, she felt as of late she had fallen out of city life, particularly Gotham City. Looking for apartments in New York City became her new hobby, in fact she had a phone interview coming up for Mount Sinai this week. Though Daisy hated hoping for the best, she couldn't help contain the bubbles of excitement she felt when thinking of moving out of this Hell hole of a city

.

Ten minus five, only five more minutes.

Daisy bundled up in her coat, hat, and gloves, bracing herself for the cold. This was one of Gotham's toughest winters yet and she was one of the few lucky ones in her building who could afford power. Daisy had been letting some of the poorer tenants take hot showers and cook meals in exchange for nothing. She expected nothing, however, she allowed herself to accept meals from Mrs. Fu, her upstairs neighbor. Her food was quite delicious and she didn't want the old woman's ego to be crushed.

Daisy checked her watch; midnight, right on time. Daisy quickly punched out and escaped through the back entrance, hoping a supervisor wouldn't run into her and ask her to cover an extra shift again. The cold hit Daisy like a freight train, her body instantly convulsed in shivers. The wind quickly snatched up her loose hat, exposing her dark ringlets. Daisy sighed, more money down the drain. She reached into her purse and pulled out her defense weapon of choice: a thick piece of rope with a padlock on it. All of her other weapons had been used or stolen within the past month, this is what she could come up with ten minutes before work. Her knife had been dropped two days before after some hooligan tried to hold her up and take her purse. Most assumed she was an easy target because she was on the smaller side and Daisy found this humerus as she had been trained in boxing.

Daisy began her walk home, it was thankful only a fifteen minute walk. She walked along the wall of the hospital, day dreaming of a hot bubble bath and a warm bed that awaited her aching muscles. With every step, the wind resisted her, almost like it was pushing her back to her job but she powered through. The cold was intense and she didn't understand how these crooked companies were allowed to shut the power off in some of these homes. The mayor was probably getting a good kickback from it…

Bright high beams whipped around the back of the hospital and Daisy turned. It was odd, considering only first responder vehicles were parked in the back and this car was way too small to be an ambulance. Daisy turned back around and kept walking, holding on tightly to her makeshift weapon in her coat pocket. The car sped up and braked immediately next to her.

Daisy's eyes widened like a deer in headlights and all she could hear was the heartbeat in her ear. This was a van with a sliding door, which flew open when a body hit the snow with a wet thud. The van sped around the corner and her world went dim again, with only the sound of a man's painful cries filling the air.

Daisy rushed over and put the man on his back. He was a kid, couldn't have been more than twenty. In a flash, a squirt of blood flew into the air and hit the snow next to his leg, sizzling as the hot blood made contact with snow. Daisy took the scarf off of her neck and tied a tourniquet above his femoral artery. This was something she had done quite a few times, in fact, emergencies didn't cause her to panic but caused time to slow down. She calculated every move that needed to be done.

The man's cries got softer and softer and when Daisy checked for a pulse, it was weak but it was there. Daisy took off her mittens and pressed on the wound, trying to stop the bleeding. The man shaking; considering the bleed and the temperature, she figured he would go into hypothermia anytime soon.

"What's your name?" Daisy asked, frantically looking for help. No one was back here, people were probably still inside giving reports and even then, no one took the back way out of the hospital because of scenarios precisely like this one.

"Ty-Tyrone," He sputtered pathetically. Daisy pulled out her cellphone and dialed for help.

"911, what's your emergency?"

"My name is Daisy Jones, I'm outside Gotham Memorial. Young, black male, early twenties with a stab to the femoral. He's bleeding quick."

"Sending help now, just hang on."

Daisy hung up and pushed down on the wound, hoping the pressure would alleviate the bleed. She looked down at this young man and gently touched his face with her other hand, "It's going to be okay, help is coming, you're gonna be fine." She choked a little, he was so young and staring at her with fear in his eyes. He was hyperventilating and clutching onto her like a newborn baby. "Everything is okay," she whispered. She looked around frantically, searching for EMTs or nurses or even the janitor, but no one was there, just the two of them.

The young man started to gasp for air and weakly patted her arm, his eyes widened with a sudden, intense fear. Daisy caught it and laid it over his chest, "No, just stay, you need to rest, everything will be fi-"

Suddenly, a strong force wrapped Daisy's arms to her chest and picked her up. It all happened quickly, Tyrone tried to scream but hoarse air just came out. A gunshot, then Tyrone couldn't be heard. Daisy began to flail against the brute, kicking and screaming. Tears rolled down her face and she began to choke against his large, meaty hand. He smelled of cigarettes and sweat. Daisy's boot went directly into her captor's groin and he dropped her, crying out in pain. Daisy stopped dead in her tracks, it was the van from earlier just around the corner.

She began to sprint away, until the brute grabbed her by the leg and her body hit the snow with an audible thud. Her boot made contact with his face and a crunching noise rang through the air, followed by his screams. The brute pounced on her, pinning her to the ground and backhanded her. Daisy's neck snapped back and she saw white from the pain. She felt another blow to her face as he punched her in the eye and began to choke her. She clawed at his hands, gasping.

This was how she would die. Pure terror crawled up her spine as she flailed with the large man on top of her. Her head filled with pressure and throbbed, starving of oxygen. She couldn't throw him off, he was too big and her arms were pinned below his knees. She began to get weaker and weaker, her squirms resembled those of a fish out of water. She began to twitch and she felt a high from lack of oxygen begin to take hold. The world was getting colder, colder than the hard pavement below. She began to take her last breaths, and as she began to make peace with God, the pressure from his hands was released.

Daisy gasped, clutching her throat and gulping for air. The pressure alleviated but it still felt as if she was hit by a train. The brute pulled out a zip-tie and quickly tied her hands together. He grabbed her by the back of the coat and dragged her towards the van. Daisy was a ragdoll, she couldn't think and she especially couldn't move, her body was numb from adrenaline but she could feel her eye swelling shut.

Her head hit the back of the metal floor of the van and she cried out in pain. Daisy curled into the fetal position and sobbed. She had never felt pure terror before but this was it. She had wished he had just killed her because she could predict her demise of rape and torture that she would be experiencing for God knows how long. This was worse than death.

"Oh, now, now. Cheer up, sweetheart. I know it's not a Ferrari but it'll have to do for our first date."

His voice sent a quiver down her spine. Whiny and cartoonish in nature but it had a certain baritone to it. The hair stood up on her neck as she exhaled sharply. She slowly uncurled herself from the fetal position and her eyes grew wide at what she saw.

In the back of the van was the most crazed looking man she had ever seen. He was laid out like an alpha lion, one leg lazily draped over the other. His faded purple pants were covered in black soot and blood. His green hair was slicked back, exposing his paint covered face. His dark eyes sparkled against the matte black grease paint smeared around his sockets. His face was horribly disfigured with a Glasgow smile; she had seen these a few times, Gotham was a mob town after all. When he smiled at her, his smile was never seemed never ending with the bright red paint haphazardly smeared into deposit of scar tissued. She noticed how pale he was, even with blotches of white paint covering his skin.

Her eyes diverted down to his chest, where his hand was putting pressure. He had been stabbed and he had lost a good amount of blood. He labored in breath slightly and he could only apply so much pressure before blood loss got to him.

"You've been stabbed," Daisy murmured.

"No shit," He scoffed. The clown man smiled at her, exposing his yellowed teeth, "Let's play a game, dollface. You do everything I say or I gut you like a pig. Now, as you can see, I'm bleeding profusely. I need you to stitch me up."


	2. Chapter Two: Dexterity

Chapter Two: Dexterity

Daisy's face was drained of all color and emotion due to the enormous amount of physical and psychological shock she was experiencing. She hoped this was just a bad dream or an elaborate, fucked up prank but she knew it wasn't, what she was experiencing was very real. Her only goal at this point was to survive this, she knew that she wasn't ready to have her life ended just yet. She swallowed down the tears that threatened to overflow and sat up straight. She stared at the man before her, who must be suffering some type of psychotic break or is legally insane. At this moment, she had to look at her situation differently; behind the clothes and the paint was a man in need of medical assistance.

"Wh...wh…" The clown man exaggeratedly leaned in, cocking his eyebrow, obvious relishing in her fear. Daisy cleared her throat and to a deep breath. "What am I going to suture you with?"

The Joker rolled his eyes and banged his head against the van, making Daisy jump. His tongue darted across his mouth and he twitched his head. He sighed, thinking of his possible doom, as he realized he maybe didn't pick the sharpest tool in the shed to save him. "Babycakes, what establishment are we currently located outside of?"

"Um...Gotham Memorial."

"And what's inside Gotham Memorial?"

Daisy furrowed her brows, "Medical equipment?"

He smiled sarcastically at her, "Good girl. Now, if you decide to tell anyone about our arrangement there will be...serious consequences. You have fifteen minutes to get all the necessary supplies. If you forget anything," The Joker began to giggle, running his hands over his cheeks, "I'll _scar_ you for life."

Daisy began to sweat even though the van was ice cold. She looked down at her hands, which were shaking violently while her heart was racing so hard, she thought it would jump out of her chest. She kept repeating to herself to not panic, but the her frantic emotions were starting to bubble over. She had to leave quickly so he wouldn't see her crack, but unbeknownst to her, she was no good at playing it cool, and The Joker was eating it up.

"Do you have any allergies?"

"Bats." The Joker burst out laughing at his own private joke while Daisy sat in the corner of the van, terrified. When the fit of laughter was over, he became very serious, "Morphine and penicillin. Cats too, but I'm more of a dog person anyway." Daisy was still stuck in the corner and the Joker rolled his eyes, "You're fifteen minutes started three minutes ago," and with that, Daisy burst out of the van and beelined towards the hospital.

The cold wind filled her lungs as Daisy gasped for air and fell into the snow. She began to sob and then let out a guttural scream into her coat, which muffled her cry of anguish. She took deep breaths, breathing in what she believed would be the last free moments of her life. She stood up, her body caked in snow and began to walk to the hospital. As she turned the corner, she noticed Tyrone wasn't there, but a majority of his blood was. Such a young kid, only a few years her junior; another life lost to youth being sucked in by the powerful crime business. Another victim to the broken system. Before Daisy could dwell on this lost life she had to focus on hers and ran towards the back door, swiping her I.D. to give her access to the hospital.

Fortunately, for Daisy, the hospital had a knock-off Pyxis, an automated medication dispenser, which cut down the cost of having a pharmacist on staff. Daisy pulled her thick hair in front of her face as she entered the main hallway of the hospital, trying to hide her identity. No one seemed to notice her, as staff was running all over the place. Daisy saw a group of familiar nurses, before she was able to choke out a cry for help, she remembered her death sentence if she dared asked for help.

Daisy made her way towards the medical supply room, contemplating her future. If she survived this, she would no longer have a job and her chances were gone with Mount Sinai. She would be homeless, jobless, and end up on the streets. All they would see is a minority stealing drugs and call it a day, that was it. Maybe, just maybe, there was a way to communicate with the hospital, to send out an S.O.S. of sorts…

Daisy looked in the room and saw no one. She quickly keyed in her employee number and quickly entered the office. The room was dark and silent, she turned the lights on and began stuffing suturing supplies in her bag; gloves, a laceration kit, wound glue, gauze, tape, alcohol, and a few syringes. Daisy reached towards the knock-off Pyxis, her hand shaking. She took a deep breath and keyed in her employee number; she typed in the code for Lidocaine. The machine needed a patient, she chose Ryan Miller, from earlier in the night. The screen popped up with his chart and she saw the "additional notes" tab. Tremoring, Daisy typed in the chart, "Help me, against will, kidnap." Daisy submitted the profile and gasped for air as her panic began to bubble over; she quickly keyed in the code for Xanax, also assigning it to Ryan.

Daisy stuffed the Lidocaine in her bag and popped the Xanax in her mouth, swallowing the dose. She breathed heavily, waiting for the drug to come into effect. Daisy rested against the wall for a moment, trying to compose herself before she dueled with the devil in the white van. She wasn't ready to go back but in life, one has to learn to be ready. All this man was a patient, an insane and violent patient, but a patient, nonetheless.

Daisy snuck her way through the hospital, keeping her bag close. She hoped the effects of her newly found pill popping habit would soon come into place and she would be able to do this suture job with little anxiety. When Daisy stepped in the van, The Joker got a large smile on his face, weakly putting up his good arm in excitement.

"Good to see you back! I thought I'd have to come gut you. Man, did you save me a trip."

Daisy exhaled weakly, "Well, I'm here." She crawled towards The Joker and sat across from him, "I'm going to need you to remove your shirt."

The Joker giggled maniacally and clicked his tongue at her, "Now, now, _dollface_ if you wanted to see me naked all you had to do-"

Daisy sputtered, flustered that this man would even dare insinuate anything, especially since she was being held against her will, "Sir, please, I just want to suture you to stop this bleed." Daisy saw his face drop from the lighthearted manner to something very serious, almost sinister. His tongue darted out from his mouth and he smirked at her as he began to unbutton his shirt.

"You got some gumption, girl, but you have a point," The hand that was pushing down on his wound to stop the bleeding was lifted and a thin but steady stream of blood began to pour down his skin. Daisy noticed how many bruises and cuts he had all over his body. He was in shape and had a slight tan; he may have been tanner, but it was hard to tell considering how pale he was from blood loss. His chest hair was blonde, which she also noticed was his natural color as she inspected the roots of his faded green hair. Daisy removed her coat and rolled up her sleeves. She laid out her supplies in order, then poured isopropyl on her hands to sterilize, and gloved up, getting ready to suture her patient.

The wound wasn't as deep as she had previously thought, just long, which was good for her; she didn't have a experienced skill set at stitching up deeper wounds. Daisy grabbed syringe and began to draw from the Lidocaine, getting a little more than enough, so he would be more comfortable. The Joker grabbed her wrist and squeezed so hard, she thought it would break. With a yelp, the Lidocaine bottle dropped to the floor, where he picked it up. He read the label and nodded at her, placing it back on her supply area.

She sighed as she leaned into him, "It'll hurt for a moment but you'll be completely numb after, okay?" The Joker said nothing, just closed his eyes, leaning his head against the back of the van. Daisy inserted the needle in and around his wound, catching extra blood and medication in spare gauze. Daisy felt his muscle tighten as she injected the medication into his skin, but after a minute, his muscle stopped spasming. "Are you numb?"

The Joker nodded and Daisy grabbed a gauze pad and drenched it with isopropyl alcohol. As she applied antiseptic to the oozing wound, she couldn't help get lost in his face. She had seen an Italian mobster come into her E.R. once with these marks, the Scottish mob had gotten to him. They had to sedate him before his tore his face in half from screaming in agony. She wondered if he had to be sedated while he screamed in agony. Daisy lifted the antiseptic off of him and wiped her surface area clean.

"I think I can close this with wound glue; do you want that or stitches?"

"Stitches, I want to be back on my feet soon." This wasn't the truth, of course, The Joker wanted to see how good her dexterity was. He could feel her eyes burning into his face as she was stitching him up. He felt nothing, just light pressure and the needle and thread brought his skin together. This was much nicer, usually he had to do it himself, but he couldn't do it this time considering he was stabbed on the right side and is right handed. He cocked one eye open and met Daisy's gaze, which she averted quickly, ashamed that she had been caught staring at him. He smiled a sinister smile and darted his tongue across his lips excitedly, "Do you wanna know how I got these scars?"

His cartoonish voice sent a child up Daisy's spine and she exhaled slowly, trying to concentrate on her work, "If you would like to."

The Joker cleared his throat, "Well, _ya see_ , I was a real loser in high school, total wimp. Braces, glasses, bad acne; I was at the bottom of the food chain. One day, I was walking my _brooding_ self home when the captain of the football team and his posse stopped me along the way. They began to _mock_ and _ridicule_ as usual, but the Mr. Quarterback seemed very eager to make my life a living hell. So...he grabbed me by the shirt and asked me, "Why are you always frowning? You should smile more." He pulled out his knife, his friends cheering him on, and now…"

Daisy tied off the stitches and looked up at her captor, waiting for his story to end. In a flash, he wrapped his hand around Daisy's throat and put her on the floor of the van. He climbed on top of her, digging his knees into her arms, immobilizing her. He grabbed his knife, shoving the blade into the corners of her mouth. Daisy could feel the blade pushing into her skin, knowing it could rip through her face. The sharp knife dug in her flesh and two small trickles of blood crawled down the sides of her cheeks. She wanted to try and get out of this but she was never good at picking her battles.

Daisy decided if this was the end at least it had been a good run. She wondered if this is why she was so willing to accept her death; it was probably the Xanax. Though she knew she hadn't lived her life to her full potential, she hoped if one person was affected by her good intentions, this life was worth living.

The Joker saw her face; trying to remain calm, accepting her possible fate. Single tears rolled down the corners of her eyes as her chest rose and fell spastically. She was like a small rabbit under the attack of a wild fox. Most struggled against him, cursed him or begged him through the knife but she...she had given up control, she knew she couldn't reason her way out of this. He wanted to kill her, to see the color drain from her beige skin, but she was just too...too much fun. He wondered how long it would take before she was begging for death and he wondered why she was okay with giving up on life without one last chance.

The Joker smiled as he pushed the knife against her cheek and gave her a long, shallow cut. Daisy gasped in pain, squeezing her eyes shut. "Now, dollface, I smile _forever._ " The Joker laughed and clubbed the side of her head. She cried out before going quiet, knocked out in one swoop. The Joker looked down at his right side, he didn't even pop his stitches. Damn, she might be useful.

"Ace! Take us home, it's time to have fun." The Joker giggled as his crony drove off from the hospital, clutching his broken nose.

 _Thank you to Destineyrose18, Anna10473, BunnyMermaid, and acosytoken for writing me such nice reviews, I really appreciate it. 3_

 _Much love guys._

 _Xoxo,_

 _MissJuniper_


	3. Chapter Three: Spanish Inquisition

Chapter Three: Spanish Inquisition

 _It was a sunny day in summer on the outside of the city. The humid air wrapped around Daisy in a hugging embrace as the sun beat down on her. She stretched out on the blanket, listening to the children scream in delight while playing. Mama lay next to her, reading Daisy's favorite book aloud, "Where the Wild Things Are."_

" _Mama?"_

" _Yes, baby?"_

" _What do I do if I meet a monster?"_

 _Daisy's mother smiled, putting down the book, reaching for her daughter. Daisy admired the way her mother's deep skin glowed against the sunlight; to Daisy, her mother was the most beautiful woman in the world. Her mother's warm hand touched her face and her full lips parted into a small smile._

" _Daisy, in life, there are monsters everywhere. You just gotta be brave when you meet them, and in time, monsters won't be monsters anymore. You'll see them for what they are: damaged."_

* * *

Daisy began to waken from her induced slumber, her head flopped to the side, trying to hold up on it's own, and her eyes began to twitch open. Well, her _eye_ , her left eye was more or less swollen shut from the hit she took from the brute. She groaned, feeling the effects of her kidnapping the night before. Daisy sighed in pain, not only from the effects of the night before, but also from the biting cold that reached her very bones. Daisy quickly became very alert, memories of the night before flooding her mind. Tyrone. The attack. The van. The clown man.

 _The clown man._

Daisy's eyes finally managed to open, in front of her, was her captor, dressed warmly in a full purple suit and gloves. His makeup was in patches now, as he had not bothered to reapply it. He leaned against a table, lighting a cigarette, and blowing smoke in her face. She recoiled, trying to inch away, only discovering she was completely restrained to a metal chair. She also discovered she was just in her undergarments, which explained her chill; she was strapped to a metal chair in the middle of winter.

"Good morning, beautiful. How did you sleep? Well, I hope." The Joker inhaled his smoke, drinking in the confusion and delirium of his newest toy. Daisy was convulsing violently against the cold, her jaw knocked against her teeth, she couldn't even respond as her shivering distorted every word that she tried to utter. The Joker smirked, "Cold, are you? Sorry, heater is, uh, _temporarily_ out of service and I'm all out of hot towels."

"Wh-wh-wh-where am-m-m-m…?" She couldn't even finish her sentence, her voice got caught in her throat. She looked around, trying to figure out her surroundings. It was so dimly lit, she could only see her captor under a single, swinging bulb. There were no windows and not a door that she could see. How many days had it been? How much time had been wasted? She knew she had just awaken but she was so sleepy; adrenaline and beginning stages of hypothermia fought and found a middle ground of barely keeping her awake.

"My humble abode. Don't worry, the decorator is supposed to be coming next week, I know it's a little... outdated." The Joker took a deep drag of his smoke, breathing out his nose like a dragon, "So, tell me Daisy, what's it like to freeze to death?"

Daisy gave a puzzled look, she didn't remember telling him her name. They hadn't really been formally introduced. She didn't even register that The Joker was insinuating that she would die in this room, all she cared about was that he knew who she was. "How d-d-do...my na-me-me-me-?"

"Well, _that_ you made easy, baby, dropping your purse on the ground and all. You do carry an I.D., ya know, but with all the information you left to me, it made doing diggin' on you a _real_ piece of cake." Daisy tried to rebuttal, but it seemed as if her vocal cords were frozen. She saw The Joker pulled out a file, filled with a few papers, "You live in a shitty part of town, you are a licensed R.N. in New York state, and have worked at Gotham Memorial for one year. No kids, no pets, no friends, not really _any_ relationship that stuck out. You seem to be kind of the loner type, aren't you, baby girl?"

Every time he used a pet name on her, it put a bitter taste in her mouth. "S-s-s-s-son of a bitch." She sputtered and with a new found courage, spat in his face. What did it matter? She would die at the hands of this nutcase. Daisy sat there shaking, from the freezing cold and the anger that fueled her rage. The Joker stared blankly at her, interested in the sudden rise of confidence this girl faced in deadly situations. She had moxie, something that he didn't see too often, because people usually begged for their life towards the end; she had no desire to appease him. This girl, though, she was a fighter. The Joker, chuckled darkly, wiping her saliva and some of his paint, off his face. He took one last drag of his cigarette before putting it out on Daisy's leg.

Daisy screamed as pain shot up her thigh, she could hear the ember searing her flesh. The Joker backhanded her and her screaming stopped; she tightened her lips as she turned her head back to stare at her tormentor.

"Now, now, now, my little flower, that is _very_ rude. Do something like that again and I might just have to throw you to the dogs." The Joker began to flip through the manila folder, licking the tip of his finger dramatically to turn the next page. Silent tears rolled down her cheeks and he smirked, relishing every minute of this. "You were born to a Ms. Georgia Jones, who was also a nurse," The Joker feigned endearment, reaching out to pinch Daisy's round cheek, which she wriggled out of, "now, isn't that precious?

"It seems, however, that the precious modern family ended after mommy offed herself on a bottle of pills. Hmmm, what a shame, she was quite a looker too, I guess that's where you get it from. Poor, orphaned baby Daisy was sent to foster care after her father denied parental rights over you, which wound you in foster care-"

"P-please...stop it." Daisy felt her old wounds being torn open. Every word stabbed her, twisting her wounds open. She had a steady stream of tears flowing down her face and The Joker grinned. It was _too_ easy to make her cry, in the face of death she was strong but in her past she was obviously weak, something was still fresh. A good sign, damaged goods are always easier to control.

"At fifteen you were fostered by _the_ associate director of foreign affairs at Wayne Enterprises, Mr. Jasper Alafaya, which is strange, because for such a newly privileged young woman, you sure did cause a lot of trouble. Grand theft auto, robbery, intention to distribute narcotics, writing a bad check. I tell ya, the list goes _on_ and _on_ about all of your misdeeds and yet...Mr. Alafaya bailed you out on every single case. Which _I_ found interesting because you had a lawsuit against him when still a minor. Unfortunately for my curious self, I couldn't find it as it had been sealed and terrorizing judges wasn't in my schedule today." The Joker leaned in and lit another cigarette, "Tell me dollface, why did you try and send Daddy Warbucks off?"

Daisy was numb, staring at the floor as tears continued to stream down her face. She was trying to figure out what she did to ever deserve this. Though she had done wrong in her past, she paid her dues; she volunteered with underprivileged kids, gave check ups to the homeless, and went to mass when she could. She wondered if God was turn his back on her or if this was a testing of her faith. Daisy bowed her head, wanting to pay reparations for her sins while she still had time on Earth to do so. She began to pray, "Hail Mary, full of grace-"

The Joker cackled as he whipped out his knife and began to slice into her thigh. Daisy screamed in agony, still reciting the prayer in her head, getting lost in the words to escape the pain of the mortal flesh. Her blood ran down the length of her leg and began to pool on the floor. Daisy gasped for breath; between the cold and losing blood, her death would be coming a lot quicker.

"I am God here, Daisy," The Joker hit her across the face, "Trust me, I am no merciful God. And I…" The Joker cocked his head to the side as Daisy's eyes began to close shut. She fought the heaviness, but slowly, she began to succumb to the cold as her body shut down. The Joker slapped her across the face, hoping that this would stir her, but she still slipped into her comatose condition. Her head hung back lazily and her lips parted, yet she still quivered. The Joker placed his hands on his hips and sighed, "Damn it, just when it was getting _fun_."

The Joker knew he'd have to act fast if he didn't want his newest toy to die. He hastily moved to the back of the chair and opened his switchblade, freeing Daisy from the ropes that bound her from the chair. Her limp body immediately collapsed onto the floor with a loud thud. The Joker sighed in annoyance, his new victim couldn't handle a little cold, that was obvious. He scooped her into his arms bridal style, noting that she was heavier than she looked. The Joker looked down the length of her, taking in her body. Her beige skin was healthy and glowing, she had curves in all the right places and a sweet, round face. Even though her face was bruised and swollen, he could make out the line of freckles across her nose and noticed how plump her lips were.

The Joker slid his gloved hand under her head and loosely grabbed a fistful of her dark ringlets, imagining the silky texture. He breathed her in, wondering if she always smelled this way or if it was a combination of sweat and fear. His eyes trailed down and he noticed he could see her bare breasts through the sheer fabric of her bra. His breathing accelerated slightly as he drank in the length of her, until he noticed her toes, which were a slight blue hue.

He sighed, leaving the room and making his way to one of the few rooms in the house that had a heater. He knew one way he could warm her up but the Joker always felt that sexual assault was a cheap way to assert power over someone. He knew of other mobsters that used this tactic and he found it distasteful. To satisfy his needs, he occasionally called women of the night to his abode, who usually put up with a fair amount of torture for him; for a _price_ of course. Daisy sure wasn't in the cards for him today, but maybe Ileana would be.

The Joker plopped Daisy down next to the heater in one of the "guest" rooms, shooing off the rats that thought they owned the building. He cranked it up on the high setting and bent down to secure his purple coat on her, trying to warm her up. The Joker pulled the unwashed blanket off the bed and wrapped it around her freezing body. He wanted to wait until his play thing stirred from her slumber but he smirked as his phone buzzed with a new message from work.

Duty calls.

 **Sorry for the long hiatus, I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Thanks to all who reviewed last time and thanks to all who have followed/are now following this story. Much love, xoxo.**


	4. Chapter Four: Deer in Headlights

Chapter Four: Deer in Headlights

Daisy hadn't shown up for work that morning.

Marcy frowned, placing down her cellphone after calling Daisy's phone for the fifth time that morning. She was three hours late for her shift, it was not like her to miss work. It was _especially_ not like her to be a no show, and it was unusual that a young woman in this age wouldn't be near her cellphone. Marcy and Daisy weren't close, but she had a hunch that something wasn't right. Daisy was the responsible type, always showing up fifteen minutes early to her shifts. The phone on her station jarringly rang, cutting off her racing thoughts and giving her a good fright. She sighed deeply, answering the damned thing.

"Nurse's station."

"Marcy, do me a favor and bring 100mg of Oxycodone to Ryan Miller, client number 5942S. His room number is 379C. I would do it but it's swamped up here…"

"No problem."

Marcy made her way to the medication dispensary, repeating the patient information over and over again, as to not forget it. She walked past running children, elderly people, stab wounds and gun shots all in a single hallway. She wondered if Daisy had just slept through her alarm or something. It was hard not to worry, Daisy was such a pretty young thing and her living on her own in the rough part of town made Marcy fret something fierce.

Marcy made her way to the pharmacy and keyed in the patient information (relieved that she remembered the information off the top of her head, maybe she still had it at 55) and scrolled through the lists of drugs. She selected her dosage and received the painkillers for the poor boy. When staff collect supplies from the dispensary, the patient chart automatically pops up as a precaution that no one is getting more than their recommended dosage of drugs. This is the only reason that Marcy would notice that after Daisy's scheduled shift last night, she took out lidocaine in the boy's name.

Marcy, confused, clicked to open the entry. It didn't make sense, this boy had been out of surgery by the time she took out the lidocaine, so he wouldn't need it. Daisy wouldn't take this for leisure either, lidocaine won't get you high. Marcy's confusion turned to terror as her eyes ran over the message in the "Notes" section of the entry.

"Help me, against will, kidnap."

* * *

A sharp pain went through Daisy's arm as it made contact the the window for the upteenth time, and to her disappointment, it did not break. It almost mocked her, not allowing her to pass but showing her the freedom that awaited her outside this room. She imagined herself, running down the fire escape, screaming for help in her undergarments. She imagined her feet making contact with the freezing snow, grabbing onto random passersby, screaming about a clown man and kidnapping. She recognized this neighborhood faintly, from the old, abandoned buildings, prostitutes, drug deals and the sounds of gunfire that she had witnessed that morning, she assume she was in The Narrows.

Daisy had awoken in a disgusting, dilapidated room. The floor was covered in rat shit and roaches occasionally scurried, relishing in the warmth of the room. The blanket that had been thrown over her was covered in splats of blood and smelled like it had never been washed. She went to sit on the bed but it had a stain that resembled urine; she would know, she had stripped bedsheets hundreds of times in her line of duty. The only thing that was remotely clean was the dark purple jacket that had been placed on her body. It swallowed her, reaching almost to the back of her knees. The inseam was black and had a silken texture to it, she wondered if it was the real deal. It smelled of gasoline and gunpowder, a weird but satisfying smell.

Daisy began to pace, her feet sinking into the sticky carpet. She had to think, she had to figure out a plan _quick_ before her tormenter decided to pay her a visit. The peeling walls felt like they were closing in on her, wrapping their hands around her bruised throat. Daisy pulled at her hair, a nervous habit of hers that she picked up in foster care. In her youth, she had to start wearing bandanas over her thick curls to conceal the offenses against her hair. She justified it though, she had hair to spare and then some.

She lay against the locked bedroom door, her head in her hands as she began to sob dryly; her tears not coming to. What did she do? Why was God cursing her this way? She didn't understand the transgressions that were being administered by her savior. Had she not suffered enough for two lifetimes? Was this another test of her faith? Daisy tried not to question her God, but she didn't know and she knew she could not alter this situation. She slid to the floor, lying against the rough, possibly blood splattered door. She screamed, rocking back and forth, wishing her mother was here.

Her mother, who had smelled of lilacs and clean laundry. Daisy missed the way her mother would gather her in a warm embrace when she had a bad day. She longed for her soft, Southern drawl and her large, gap-toothed smile (which Daisy had inherited). She missed her long, delicate fingers and how they would wrap around a hot mug of tea or pick up the newspaper to read every morning. Daisy remembered how her mother would sing and dance with so much gusto and passion through the house, always pulling Daisy in, spinning her arounds, dipping her, and crooning The Ronettes.

 _Click!_

The locks on the door began to fidget and Daisy ran to the other side of the room, curling into a ball, waiting to meet her captor head on. She figured hiding would only make it more fun for him, might as well meet this challenge face to face. The door creaked open, and an intruding gloved hand wrapped around the base of the frame. His gruesome face peered from around the door, his dark eyes making contact with Daisy as a large grin spread on his face, pulling at his garish scars. She was like a wild animal, her curls had dissolved into frizz that stuck up in every direction while her doe-like eyes were completely filled with fear. The Joker saw her wrapped up in nothing but that overcoat he had given her, attempting to shield herself from him. Her body was covered in bruises and welts from head to toe and her full lips seemed even fuller with the fat cut down her bottom lip.

The Joker smacked his lips, hands behind his back as his heavy feet carried him towards Daisy. He was dressed sharply, black pinstripe pants, a lavender dress shirt and maroon suspenders that were accented with gold hardware. His dress shoes clacked on the floor loudly and Daisy gulped, burying herself into the corner, trying to crawl into an imaginary hole in the wall. She looked at him from behind the sleeve of the overcoat, readying herself to brace for an attack. As he approached however, Daisy's nostrils got a whiff of something all too familiar.

Food.

The Joker grinned and presented her with a to-go box and a liter of Coca-Cola. Daisy's eyes widened for a brief moment before her rational brain took over. She couldn't trust this at all, there had to be a catch to it. Her stomach growled in protest, but she knew humans could go weeks without food, and she would just have to wait for the next opportunity. The Joker sat on the floor next to her, giving her some distance, but not enough. He held out his gift for her, gently rocking it back and forth.

"Hungry, sugarplum?" Daisy hid behind her puffs of hair and shook her head violently. The Joker frowned, his tongue darting across his scarred mouth. He dropped the meal on the floor with a huff and slicked back his faded green hair, "Ya know, sweetcheeks, we can do this the _easy_ way or the _hard_ way. One of them involves a feeding tube, and let me _tell ya,_ I am not a trained professional like you are. It takes me a good thirty minut-"

Daisy didn't need anymore convincing and complied with her captors orders. Like a ravenous predator, she snatched the box and popped it open, revealing mounds of spaghetti and garlic bread. It felt like she hadn't eaten in about two days but it was hard to count hours when this whole ordeal already felt like an eternity. Her stomach gurgled violently as she began to shovel food into her mouth, ignoring her captors cackles. He watched her, flinging pasta sauce all over her mouth and hair, looking like a feral dog in the trash. He studied her as he lit a cigarette. Her hazel eyes, though they had fear, they also had a primal need for fuel. He noticed how slender her fingers were and how she obviously bit her nails into stubby, pink mounds. He noticed that she hadn't tried to hide from him, which he found interesting, as most of his playthings hide, crying and sobbing under the bed or in the closet.

Daisy washed down her meal with the soda in only a few gulps and sighed as her bloated belly settled in relief. She stifled a large belch that had crawled its way up her esophagus and she curled herself against the wall, avoiding eye contact with her guest. Daisy didn't know what to do anymore, it's hard to be strategic when all control is ripped from you and to survive you must comply.

Daisy sighed, using every bit of confidence left to lift her head and meet The Joker's dark gaze. He cracked an amused smile, flicking his ashes onto the revolting floor. Daisy began, "Sir, if I may?"

The Joker made an open gesture moment with his cigarette hand, obviously entertained by her by her polite gestures, "Why, of course madam."

"I know I probably won't be able to reason with you; you seem to be a force of your own. I just….I just wouldn't forgive myself if I didn't try…" Daisy choked back a sob, steadying her breathing, "Please, just let me go. I won't tell anyone what happened here, I swear. Just tell me what you want. I don't have a lot of money-"

The Joker snorted as he flicked out his butterfly knife, expertly twirling it between his fingers. Daisy gulped, her heart kicking into overdrive as the overcasted sun gently gleamed onto the sharpened blades. He kept his dark eyes focused on her, wondering if she would break the gaze and was impressed when she kept her eyes locked on him, "Money doesn't mean shit to me, princess."

A lump welled in her throat as she slowly began to peel back her coat, single tears beginning to run her round eyes. Her breath caught as the coat slid behind her, exposing her undergarments. "Is this what you want?" She whispered, crawling towards him, her bare, raw hands sinking into the putrid carpet, "Is this what you wanted all along?"

The Jokers giggles bubbled into cackles and Daisy paused there, half-naked and confused as her captor laughed at her advances. She blushed violently, turning ten shades of red as she bowed her head in shame. The tears began to pick up and she felt her coat being dragged over her as The Joker pulled the coat around her body. She looked up at him, tears falling down her eyes. Their faces were inches apart. She studied his cracked stage makeup that had caked around his 5 o'clock shadow, his yellowed teeth, perhaps from years of cigarettes and bad habits. She could smell the gasoline and gunpowder on his person. Whiffs of pomade and aftershave also infiltrated her nose. She avoided looking at his scars, knowing that staring at those might get her killed.

"Keep your clothes on sweetie. I don't want to _fuck_ you, I want to _fight_ you."

 _ **Hello, my sweets! Thank you for the patience with this chapter, as a south Floridian, this past week I was preparing for Hurricane Matthew, so this chapter was indeed delayed. I encourage all of my readers to donate any spare resources they can to Haiti, which was decimated by the hurricane. I will provide a link that has a few charity programs that will be helping the country. If you cannot donate, I suggest opening the conversation to those who can.**_

 _ **/news/news/hurricane-matthew-how-help**_

 _ **Don't forget to follow if you want updates. Let me know if you like where this is going. If you have any questions, feel free to message! I love talking to my readers. Last but not least, if you are being affected by the hurricane or will be affected, please stay safe!**_

 _ **Xoxo,**_

 _ **Juniper**_


	5. Chapter Five: Blood Oath

Chapter Five: Blood Oath

When José Ruiz woke up this morning, he went through his routine, as he always did, each and every morning. An hour of exercise, an icy cold shower, a rigorous teeth brushing, a breakfast high in proteins, and a half hour of GCN before heading off to work. This had become his life, as of late; something ordinary and monotonous.

Today seemed like any other average day. That is, until a Lieutenant Gordon called asking about the kidnapping of Daisy Jones.

* * *

Lieutenant Gordon sighed, taking a swig of his cold coffee while looking at the spread of papers before him. Crime was steadily raising in Gotham, which means his workload had become a mountain instead of a hill. He had six top priority cases, all of which the Chief was expecting to be solved by the end of the week. His grey hairs had multiplied dramatically in a matter of months and the spells of throbbing chest pains had becoming increasingly worse. Gordon began to look older than he really was. It was unfortunate, retirement was about ten years away, but he was beginning to look sixty-five already.

The newest case on his desk was rather peculiar. He ran hand over her file, opening it lazily. Lieutenant Gordon heard what happened when two detectives came to the home of Mary Alberts, the mother of Tyrone Alberts. She had dissolved to the floor as they told her the news of her dead son. She screamed the scream of a wounded animal, crying his name over and over again. She was the only relative that could go to the morgue to identify the body of her baby boy.

Lieutenant Gordon handed off Tyrone's case to two experienced detectives, hoping they could find a link between the young man and Daisy Jones. It was strange, neither of them belonged to any gangs or had an connection with each other, thus far. It was hard to open this woman's past, her records were sealed and were conveniently not logged in any file or computer. He had reached out to Jasper Alafaya, her foster father, but had not heard back yet. She had no extended family. All that existed of her was video from a shoddy, outdated camera system that was being religiously looked over by an over-worked rookie.

A quick rapping at his office door snapped him out of his daze as Sheila poked her head inside, "Sir, José Ruiz is here about the Daisy Jones case." Gordon gave a forced smile and quickly composed himself, stacking the file of his newest case neatly on his desk.

José Ruiz stepped into the office, quietly thanking Sheila for showing him in. Gordon sized him up: José was about 6'5", heavily built, and was deep in complexion. His long dreadlocks were tied back tight, with one stray lock of hair framing his chiseled face. His posture was straight as a board and he walked like the rooster of the hen house. His face was grave, expecting the worst of the worst. Gordon thought how easy it would be for a man of that size to kidnap a girl of Daisy's stature. He quickly scribbled down some notes before standing to greet his guest.

"Lieutenant Jim Gordon, please feel free to call me Jim," Gordon said, as he shook hands with his guest. José gave a slight smile, reciprocating the tight grip, "Please, have a seat."

José sat down on the worn fold-out chair, averting Gordon's gaze to look around the room. It was full of filing cabinets that overflew with past cases and current alike. It smelled like a mix of an outdated library and stale coffee. All the light was artificial and harsh against José's eyes, he wondered how anybody could be cramped up in an office like this with no sunlight. Gordon's outward appearance resembled his office: there were heavy bags under his eyes, he was pasty, underweight, and his suit was rumpled and un-ironed. This man could easily use a year of paid vacation.

"Thank you for being here on such short notice, I know that you were on your way to work-"

"Anything I can do to help." José said, furrowing his brow, "I was very concerned after we spoke."

Gordon noted the crack in his voice as his words began to run together, "Have you found anything on her?"

Gordon smiled politely, "We'll get to that, son, but I need to ask you some routine questions. Would you like a cup of coffee?" Gordon asked politely, standing to refresh his own.

"No, thank you. I do not do well with caffeine."

Gordon turned to him, "Now that's quite an accent, where are you from?"

"The Dominican Republic. I immigrated with my family when I was twelve." José twiddled his thumbs as Gordon began to take steady notes, "I have just received my nursing license, that is how I know Daisy, we went to the same school." José sighed, "I must confess, Lieutenant Gordon, I do not understand why you have called me here, though I am happy to help in any way. It is confusing, you see, Daisy and I are not this close emotionally."

Gordon paused, curiously looking at the young man. He turned his attention back to his notepad, "That's strange, José, considering you were her emergency contact for her job at Gotham Memorial."

José gave a shrug of his shoulders, "Daisy is not very...how you say...friendly. There are not a lot of people in her life."

"Would you say she is difficult? Maybe doesn't like social situations?" Gordon asked, not looking up from his notepad.

"Not exactly. She has a hard time trusting others, from what I have seen. I wanted to get closer but she usually would push away. We went out on dates occasionally, but most of our interactions are..." José cleared his throat, looking away from the lieutenant in embarrassment, "...physical."

"Are you upset that she won't let you get closer to her?"

José shrugged, "Honestly, a little bit, I care for her a great deal. She is a wonderful girl, very smart, very pretty. But I will take what I can get, I am happy with our current...arrangement."

"Do you know anything about her past?"

José shook his head, "I know her mother is dead and that her foster father was not a good man. She told me she got into a lot of trouble as a kid. That is all I know." Gordon made a note that Jasper Alafaya probably would not talk to him about this case.

"Does she have any enemies?"

"I don't know, she does not talk about her personal life. How I see her, however, I do not think she could have enemies."

"Do _you_ have enemies?"

José sighed, adjusting himself in his chair, "I used to live in a bad neighborhood. The gangs there were trying to recruit me to sell heroin, but I always refused. They still try and harass me on occasion, though, to my knowledge they do not know of Daisy."

Gordon nodded, leaning back in his chair, "When was the last time you and Daisy spoke?"

"I actually texted her last night, asking if she wanted to get dinner this week...before that, it was about three weeks ago..." The gravity of the situation finally caught up to Jose, who looked up at Gordon with cloudy eyes. José choked back tears, as hundreds of possible diabolical scenarios involving Daisy flashed before his eyes. "Is...is she going to be okay?"

Gordon sighed, closing his notebook, "It's hard to tell, José; most victims of this type of kidnapping are hard to track down. We're doing what we can." Gordon stood, José followed in suit, "You've been a lot of help, son. If there's anything you can think of, please call or text me." Gordon extended a business card and José took it from him, sliding it in his wallet. "I'll let you know if anything comes up…"

* * *

"Fight...fight you?" Daisy sputtered, "Why?"

The Joker pinched her face between his thumb and forefinger, squeezing her plump cheeks until she whined in pain, squirming against him, "Because, babydoll, I wanna keep you on your toes. Usually, I break people by now-they're begging, crawling…" The Joker gave a sly, devilish smile, "But you were already begging for _something_ from me, now weren't ya?" The Joker dissolved in a fit of giggles that sent the hair on the back of her neck shooting up.

"I won't fight you." She said meekly, bowing her head. This was a mistake, as The Joker snatched a handful of her hair, jerking her head back. Daisy cried out as white light blinded her, she tried to claw at her attacker but her hands were gathered in his large, encompassing gloved one. He squeezed so hard she thought her wrists would break. His put his face almost flush with hers; he was so close that his white paint began to rub on her face. She could feel his hot breath on her as he loomed over her, he looked like the cat that was going to devour the canary.

"You see, dollface, I'm not really the type to boss around." The Joker gestured over his face, "As you can see, I'm not the type you want to say _no_ to _._ But, I'm not an unfair guy, I like to give people alternatives. You can either be burned alive or drowned. You can either be pushed off the building or jump. You can have soup or salad. You catch my drift?" Daisy nodded frantically, "Okay, good, _so_ either...you have a scrap with me or you risk being thrown to my men. And trust me...they are _not_ of the gentlemen variety that I am. So…" He forced a smile, tightening his grip on her hair, "take you pick, Daisy baby."

Daisy closed her eyes, slowly exhaling as a single tear fell down her face. She felt a gloved hand wipe it away. She tried to curl away from him, but somehow, the grip got tighter. Daisy cleared her throat, composing herself, but The Joker still saw the hesitation, the fear that lay in her eyes. "I would...I would like to make a wager." Her hazel eyes gazed into his pleadingly as he cocked a brow, letting the grip on her hair loosen a little. Daisy sank into the dirty floor a little and gave a small sigh of relief. She never thought that she would be thankful to be back on _this_ floor.

"Oh, how _did_ you know I was a gambling man?" His tongue flicked over his lips, touching the corners of his mouth. He looked like a kid in a candy store, his eyes flashing with excitement.

Daisy forced a smile, trying to turn on any Southern charm her mother had taught her over the years. This man was crazed, but he _was_ still a man after all. She silently prayed there was a sliver of sympathy deep, down inside him. "If I win, I get to leave. I will walk out of here, I will forget your face forever. I will tell the authorities nothing," Daisy choked slightly on the prospect of leaving, her tears welling in her eyes, but she remained strong, "If you win, I will follow you blindly, without hesitation or complaint, as long as you don't kill me."

The Joker smirked in amusement, his grip completely slacking as Daisy slithered out of his reach. The Joker rubbed his scars methodically, smearing the red paint and exposing pink, irritated flesh underneath. He was never one to break a verbal agreement, he knew if he took this wager, he had a chance of losing his new victim (a _very_ small chance), however, this could make the game a lot more fun. She was gambling hard, he knew she didn't trust him to _not_ kill her. Maybe it would keep her on edge, psych her out. Maybe this would break his new toy… He giggled a little and Daisy jumped at the sudden sound. She had backed into the corner again, fearing his presence, expecting him to lash out at her. She worried if she lost the bet, she would be stuck with a ticking time bomb.

"You got yourself a deal, dollface." The Joker whipped off his glove, exposing a rough, calloused hand underneath the purple leather. He grabbed her by the wrist, jerking her body forward, almost sitting her in his lap. She tried to edge away and then began to wiggle violently as he pulled out a long, slender knife.

"What the hell are you doing?!" She squealed, trying to jerk her hand out of his grasp. He grunted, pulling her towards him again. The only reason she stopped struggling is because she felt her shoulder began to slide out of socket ever so slightly.

"It's called a blood oath, sweet cheeks." Without even wincing, the long blade sliced down the middle of his left palm, where dozens of long, shiny scars lay. Blood began to slowly ooze out of the wound-not too deep for stitches but deep enough to bleed. Daisy was so shocked at what was going on that she didn't notice when The Joker grabbed her hand and began pushing the blade in her palm. She cried out as he dragged the blade down her skin. She pushed down the reflex to jerk back instinctively, knowing that the wound would only deepen. In one swift motion, he grasped her hand in his, weaving his strong fingers between her delicate ones.

"How-how do I know you're not going to trick me?" Daisy sputtered, watching their mingled blood drip slowly onto the stained carpet.

"Because, Daisy-" His tongue darted across his lip and his voice dropped low and rough, his eyes burning with the intensity of a thousand suns, "I'm a man of my word."

* * *

"Lieutenant Gordon!"

Jim Gordon spun around on his heel, taking in the image of Officer Thompson, frantically running towards him. He pushed past people left and right, sliding under arms and almost knocking an elderly woman over. Gordon huffed, rubbing his temples, wondering why this new detective thought it was important to stop him mere inches from the door.

"Thompson, can this not wait until-"

"No, sir. I think I found something regarding the Daisy Jones case."

* * *

Daisy and The Joker were walking circles around each other, like two lions, wondering who will pounce first. Daisy tried to conceive her modesty at first, holding the over sized coat against her frame, but considering she was trying to win a fight against a man twice her size, she decided her modest didn't mean much. Daisy pulled her mane of hair back, remembering earlier when her captor used it as leverage. The Joker rolled up his sleeves and broke the dance they were in. He cocked an eyebrow as he gave her a "come hither" motion with his hands.

"Come to daddy."

And then she pounced, like a wild animal, growling and snarling, as The Joker dissolved into a fit of laughter.

* * *

Lieutenant Gordon and Officer Thompson were holed up in a tiny office, a small TV before them that played tapes. Gordon grumbled slightly as he had to crouch down in order to see the TV well, this better be worth it, he was pushing a thirteen hour day…

"The truck that kidnapped Daisy...I thought it looked familiar, like from another case. There was one case in particular with the same van, I remember because the back fender-"

"Just get to the point, Thompson." Gordon quipped, and Thompson began to scurry around for tapes.

"Yes, sir, just give me one moment." Thompson played the tape from the kidnapping. In the tape, a blurry white van with the right back fender off kilter. Gordon and Thompson saw, like watching a horror movie, as a large figure pummeled a small woman to the ground and tossed her in the van like a rag doll. "Now, watch _this_." Thompson popped in a different tape, this time, from a jewelry store heist two weeks ago, "See the van?"

Gordon squinted as he observed the van: white, with an off kilter back fender. The men all wore clown masks as they piled out of the same van that abducted Daisy Jones. Gordon's eyes widened. "Sir, this is the same string of robberies where the found "Joker" playing cards." Gordon clapped Thompson on the back, smiling ear to ear.

"So it is, my boy. Excellent work. Cross reference everything you have on these cases and see if Daisy has every been interview as a possible accomplice or witness. I want it on my desk by the morning."

"Yes, sir!" Thompson smiled ear to ear, accepting the praise from his mentor. Gordon grabbed his briefcase and headed towards the door, letting out a long exhale. These robberies were becoming more frequent and more violent, with dead members left at every crime scene. Gordon knew the chances of a kidnap victim were already slim, but, with such a violent ringleader, he figured Daisy Jones was a goner.


End file.
